United States

-should get a life but I haven't found out what store sells them yet and I'm broke
-not the best writer but I enjoy it
-I'm the reason teachers have a page limit on essays.

Message from Writer

You are valid.
Katelyn is my favorite person in the entire world.

Published Work

That Funny Feeling

When you realize you're alone because you're too afraid of feeling lonely.

I Never Asked

It used to tear me up inside,
You were hurting because of me.
But only now am I realizing,
I never asked you to rescue me.
I never asked for you to take the pain away.
I only wanted you to be there,
To hold my hand,
To hug me,
To smile at me the way you always did.
I never asked for you to fix me,
I only asked for you.

Please Help Me (A Rant)

I want to talk to people.
I want to tell my friends that I love them,
And that I'm here for them no matter what.
I want to ask them if there is anything I can do,
Tell them I want to be a part of their life.
But it stops me.

By it I mean my dumb brain.
Everytime it tells me that they secretly hate me,
Or that they'll think I'm being insincere,
Or that they don't think that we're that close.

And then time goes by and I haven't talked to any of them in like...
And I want to say that I miss them and we should talk more,
And I wanna just hear their voices again, 
And talk about anything, just...

But I can't,
Because my dumb brain tells me that I'm a terrible person,
And they won't wanna hear from me,
And that they're glad we haven't talked in a while,

Our World

One day we'll get a house somewhere wonderful,
With rooms we can decorate with whatever flags we want,
With no one there to tell us we're wrong.
Far away from parents whose unconditional love had conditions,
Away from words that cut way deeper than their speakers know.
And we'll all finally be free.

Everyone can wear whatever clothes they want,
Work towards getting the jobs they want,
Cut their hair to whatever style they want,
And love whoever they want,
Because we'll finally be free.

The world has so much hate in it,
But at least we can find somewhere less hateful.
Where we feel safe and can go simple places without fear,
Where we can feel accepted and be around people who want us around exactly as we are.
And we'll finally be free.

One day, we'll create a world that can be ours.

Those Specific People

You know those people who can make fun of you all they want and you just laugh because that's just how your relationship works?
Those people who you joke around with and develop so many inside jokes that when there's someone else around they get kind of confused?
Those people who would never say something that actually upset you because they know just what would make you cry or what would make you feel terrible and are careful to avoid it?
They're the ones who make life easier just by being present and they're the people we wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
I, personally, think that they should all be thanked for existing.

Hate is Infectious

People judged me,
I started to judge myself,
People called me fat,
I must be fat then.
People called me ugly,
That means I'm ugly.
People said I had no right to be sad,
That I had nothing to cry about,
So I started feeling guilty
About feeling sad.
People told me I was a sin,
I guess I am.
Someone told me no one liked me,
I'll be alone forever.
People used to get mad and called me things;
A control freak, a bad friend,
a terrible person,
I believed them.
People hated me,
I started to hate myself.

Be careful what you say to people.

Humanity on Paper

Human beings
have the ability
to be so wonderfully 
and yet 
so simply amazing.
Some people
soil their beauty
and some people
try to 
soil others,
but regardless,
The concept of 
a baby,
born so
innocent in nature
and shaped 
into who it
eventually becomes
by its specific experiences
in theory,
But so easily
it can manage to

Never Satisfied

So many drafts,
So many 'not good enough's
A seemingly endless pile of unpublished words,
Which will never be seen by other eyes
A sea of words that were judged by someone
Who never feels like she's good enough.
But she continues to write,
Continues to leave more and more drafts,
Because she never can just be,

The Beach

The air grows sticky and hot but in a way that is also a symbol of freedom, of having a break.
One's skin growing warmer under the blazing sunlight until beads of sweat form only to be evaporated by the same heat that caused them.
Children running, chasing each other and laughing as they kick dry sand everywhere and are soon covered in it, but having too much fun to care.
The uneasy feeling when something rubs against your leg under the opaque water but being too caught up in those around you to think about it for long.
A dog splashing freely through the ocean chasing after something again and again but never tiring from it.
Creating masterpieces out of sand and showing them off to friends, family, and often even strangers who happen to be walking by.
And when the day ends, walking home in a tired, overheated, wet, sandy haze only to come back and do it...

Happy Pride Month

To everyone out there who is struggling with themselves:

You are valid.
You deserved to be loved.
No one decides who you are but you.
You are special.
You are beautiful.

Word Of Advice

Follow Tom and Cooper. There are no posts there but follow it anyway. Have fun with your life. Bye. 


Don't let the duck eat the spaghetti.
Ahoy there, mateys.
Magic purple crayon.
Eat the legos.

Goodbye For Good

I can't forgive you.
Not who you are now.
Not what you've become.
You apologize.
But it's not real.
The love I felt for you.
That was real.
But I'm not sure about your love for me.
I don't even recognize you now.
The one I loved back then,
Is gone.
I'm finally admitting that.
I can't say my love for you is gone,
That would be a lie.
I just can't look you in the eyes anymore.
It hurts me so bad to be without you,
But it's worse when you're here.
I can finally drop the guilt,
And just say,


She is yellow.
She knows it.
Everyone knows it.
She doesn't hide it.
She shows it with her banana jacket,
With her squeaking rubber duck army,
With her unapologetically positive attitude.
She is yellow.
It cannot be denied.
Because with everyone she touches,
Everyone she talks to,
Everyone she greets,
She spreads a little bit of her yellow to them.
She is yellow.

The Matter of Protection

Trying to protect me won't work,
I don't need protection,
Nor do I want it.
I've never wanted protection,
I've always wanted and needed to be the protector,
So I likely won't let you protect me,
And I'm sorry about that,
But I don't want help from anyone,
Even when I do need it.
Because I'm afraid,
Because I don't trust,
Because I don't want to get attached,
Even though I do every time.
So thank you for trying,
But if you really want to help me that much,
Then let me protect you.
I'm stubborn,
Everyone's aware of that.
So it's going to take a get me to let you protect me,
And I don't think I have the strength in me to be weak.


I have to be strong.
But strength isn’t enough.
It’s not enough to make her notice me,
To make her love me.
So I need to be stronger.
She’s all that matters.
I’ll do anything to win her over.
Even give up some of my strength,
Or at least use my strength to help those I once hurt.
I can change.
I can make myself better.
For her.
I can become the kind of strong she needs,
Not the type of strong I thought she wanted.


An online quiz just called me a boomer, I'm not sure why because when it asked me what cellphone I had as a kid I put iPhone five, but okay then. Overall, I guess I can be a little old fashioned sometimes, but that's typically a little different than boomer old fashioned, like the fact that I own a quill and I admit that I refuse to update my phone from the earlier mentioned five that I have. But, I guess what better judgment of my age is there than an online quiz that was a huge waste of my time and took much to long to complete but I regret nothing because we always have to believe everything we read on the internet. This has been, life lessons with a completely underqualified teenager, come back next time for more of my useless and often incorrect ideas, opinions, and (rarely actually true) facts.

Any Hard Feelings?

I'm sorry,
I am.
I care about you,
I promise.
And I never stopped.
I think I care about all people,
Even those who call me names,
Or those who glare at me,
Or even those who try to hurt me.
Because all people deserve love.
I'd still fight for you,
If you weren't the one attacking.
I'm sorry that I had to attack you,
But I couldn't stop myself.
I'd jump in front of a gun meant for you,
I'd sacrifice everything I cared about to see you smile once.
And though I'm not sure exactly why,
I miss you.
I miss your jokes, that I have to admit were pretty funny when they weren't offensive.
I miss the very few times you actually let me hug you,
I miss things not being so complicated.
I secretly wish all the fighting would stop,
I never wanted this to happen,
I never wanted people to think I hate you,

Loyalty (This is the Truth)

I try not to get defensive most of the time,
But sometimes I can't help myself.
Sometimes I know I have to,
Even though they think I'm wrong in doing so,
Sometimes I have to interfere because I know if I don't,
People will just hurt more.
I'd rather be considered the bad guy then let injustice continue.
But what no one seems to understand,
Is that I'd do the same for all of them.
I may be impulsive sometimes,
But my loyalty is stronger than any other part of me.
"'I'd rather die then watch them hurt you'"
That was something said in one of the books I read a while back.
And though extreme,
I agree with it with every fiber of my being.
That's why I'm a Hufflepuff,
That's why I keep fighting this endless battle.
But I'd do it for anyone,
My friends,
My family,
My enemies,
Even strangers.
Because loyalty is the most important...

The Tip #MentalAwarness

    We were all huddled together, some standing, some sitting on a sandy wooden bench that was right next to the entrance of the boardwalk, awaiting the golf karts that would come and go and take us to our car that was parked in the overflow parking lot far away. I could feel my skin, sticky from dried remains of saltwater, and the sand still on me made me feel itchy and uncomfortable. I've never particularly like the beach, blazing sun, sand getting everywhere, and wild waters that would pull me under and scrape my face on the ocean floor when I was younger, but this hadn't been my worst experience at the beach or anything.
    After what seemed like hours but was realistically only a few minutes, one of those extra-long golf karts drove up. There was a young man sitting at the wheel, he seemed to be about college-aged a theory that was confirmed by the tip...

The Tip #MentalAwarness

    We were all huddled together, some standing, some sitting on a sandy wooden bench that was right next to the entrance of the boardwalk, awaiting the golf karts that would come and go and take us to our car that was parked in the overflow parking lot far away. I could feel my skin, sticky from dried remains of saltwater, and the sand still on me made me feel itchy and uncomfortable. I've never particularly like the beach, blazing sun, sand getting everywhere, and wild waters that would pull me under and scrape my face on the ocean floor when I was younger, but this hadn't been my worst experience at the beach or anything.
    After what seemed like hours but was realistically only a few minutes, one of those extra-long golf karts drove up. There was a young man sitting at the wheel, he seemed to be about college-aged a theory that was confirmed by the tip...

A Mix of Things Others Have Described Me As

Quick to say love

I'm called all of these things often and I'm not entirely sure what they mean to me. But always remember what you say matters.

Envy of the Past

I look at that familiar face.
The one I so often despised.
And I see something there that makes my stomach churn.
Carefree enjoyment.
I smile spreads across her lips.
She laughs,
A laugh lighter than what it is now,
And she smiles,
Truer than what it has become.
I grow more and more discontent.
I beg her to come back to me,
To let me live a life of peace again.
But she's gone,
Just a memory.
I can't have her anymore.
But I want her.
My efforts fail yet I try again.
Desperate to feel that way again.
Please come back to me, I beg.
But she just sighs and smiles,
Waving goodbye as I stare at her from afar.
Like a dog watching its owner leave for work,
Except she won't come back,
She can't come back.
No matter what I try,
She's gone.


We grow farther apart.

Not on purpose.

In fact entirely against our wishes.

But I see him less.

We talk less.

Something is keeping us apart.

Something strange.

Something powerful.









Don't Worry

Don't worry about me, darling,
I'll be fine.
If you remember I love you,
And you smile at me,
I'll be okay.
I can take care of myself.
And can I tell you something,
I actually wish you didn't care about me.
I know that sounds weird,
But I'm not used to people caring about me,
I always did the caring,
And I want to support myself.
So please don't worry,
That's the best thing you can do for me.

Why it's Over

Times they said they loved me: ...

Three Simple Words

I'm standing from a distance, watching the battle. 
But both sides take each other for granted.
One thinks the other is saying they shouldn't be who they are.
The other thinks she is entitled to think that.
I think I've picked a side, but I'd rather not.
Because you see there's one thing neither side will do. 
Just say three simple words,
Those words are spoken but never alone. 
There's always a follow-up.
I love you, but I think you're a sinner.
I love you, but I hate your beliefs.
That's the reason this whole thing started.
Because one couldn't just support another.
Do beliefs about what is and isn't bad really trump loved ones?
Why does it matter?
I understand one side, because being told you're a sin sucks.
The other I'm quite confused.
Because not once has she just said these three simple words.
There's always a but, always an even though.
I support you, but I think...

Do I love you?

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't think so.
But I don't really understand my feelings.
I don't know who I love.
Or why I love them.
All I know is that I love you.
Not how,
Not why,
Not how good I am at showing it,
Just that I love you.
And that I will always be sure of.


You ask me if I'm okay. 
I really don't find it that simple. 
What makes someone truly okay? 
Is it happiness, because if so, I don't know. 
Is it content, because then I don't know. 
Is it just not feeling terrible, because I'm not sure.
Is it being happy with where I am now, because that may mean I was never okay?
Right now I'm fine.
I'm stressed, but that's expected from life.
I'm sad but I have been for so long I've lost count.
But there's no need to worry.
I would never let myself fall past the point of no return.
I can float in this endless space as long as I have to.
And I won't be particularly good, but I'm alive and that's as good as it gets for me.

Six Word Story

Sometimes, I feel like a chicken.

British Actors

British actors are amazing and that is a fact. They have cool accents that just sound better than American accents. They are a nice distraction from the problems in the U.S. because they don't live here and either don't experience them or have an outsider's opinion on them and provide a fresh view. Most of them are funny even if they don't try to be. They're famous actors so they're super talented. And they are just overall amazing. Anyone who says otherwise can fight me.

Shiny Vampire Abs

He who sparkles like a star
His eyes are shiny and golden
He who is “too pretty for human eyes”
He who is the one who wants me
Who wants my blood

My Thoughts

1. sleep feels amazing
2. cookies may not be able to fix all of our problems but they make things easier
3. batteries are toxic but they taste good, like a lot of things in life (don't eat batteries)
4. fictional characters are often better than real people
5. I have a mix of songs from Falsettos and songs from Grease stuck in my head.
6. My friend smells like toasted marshmallows (she knows who she is)
7. I want a pet Siberian tiger
8. clowns are pedophiles
9. friends are there to do insanely weird things with you and keep you grounded
10. Mickey Mouse is false representation because rats have irises.

M & Ms

Think of a warm summers day, the chocolate melting in your hands, colors staining your skin
Their savory deliciousness, you can feel their outer shell fade away and taste its artificial sweetness
The little m in white print on the front calls to you its slight detail
And they taste rich, smooth, milky, flavorful, incredible
These are what make up memories, remind us of childhood and innocence
But most importantly, they taste pretty good

The Wreckage

My brain is a giant kingdom full of many things
And there's a small village connecting me to reality
Depending on the connections I've made it changes
When good things happen that make me feel secure
It becomes bigger and sturdier
But when terrible things happen
Bricks tumble to the ground,
Windows shatter,
and it all comes falling down
This has happened many times before
It's as if someone has taken a sledgehammer and swung it through the fragile foundation of my sanity
Right now everything lies in ruins
I try to go to others for help but bricks crash down blocking my path so I can no longer see those I thought I could trust
Or at least those I wanted to be able to trust
As my life tumbles to the ground I stand there, watching
My face is nearly expressionless, mouth drawn into a tight line
I watch everything I thought I knew fall apart in front...

Need I say more

I'm in love need I say more?
Must I say my heart flutters at the very thought of him?
That I stutter even saying hello to him...
That looking into his eyes makes the world seem to not matter...
Or that his gentle laugh echos through my brain constantly...
Should I have to say these things aloud?
Are they not well enough floating around in my mind circling my thoughts endlessly and repeating their words that are truer than true to me?
I think not.
I'll keep them in.

Chocolate Cake

Prompt: Write a story where chocolate cake plays a significant role.

He had to go away often and she knew that. It was for a good cause, everyone would tell her, it was a brave sacrifice. But why now, why right before her sixteenth birthday. Her father has taught her to bake growing up and she had grown very fond of it. Every year, they would bake each other a chocolate cake for their birthdays, he would bake one on hers, and she would bake one on his. It was a tradition they both enjoyed. So why did he have to be deployed, not just right before her birthday, but her sixteenth? He had always promised that they would celebrate her sixteenth together and he would take her to her favorite restaurant and they would make the biggest cake imaginable together. But now he couldn’t. It didn’t seem fair. She hugged him goodbye and watched him enter the giant,...

Interesting Fact

The most likes I have on something I've written is three and that was on a piece I wrote about a Chicken and a Duck falling in love. The saddest part is, I'm kind of proud of that.


    “I’d like to buy a plane ticket to your furthest destination today,” she whispered. She looked anxious. Her hands were shaking and she was clicking a pen over and over again. Her auburn hair tumbled down her head and past her shoulders in waves that seemed like they would normally be very pretty but today free hairs stuck out everywhere. She didn’t have a suitcase, only an old, faded gray bag that she slung over her shoulder and held onto possessively.

    “And what’s your name?” The lady across the counter said though it was barely a mutter. She yawned and barely looked up at the woman standing across from her. Her gray hair was pinned in a loose bun on top of her head and her nametag was crooked and barely clung to her navy blue uniform. Harriet, it said in bold font.

    “Um… Rachel,” The young woman said, the pen in her hand’s clicks got faster, “Rachel Carter.”...

Are you hurting?

Are you hurting?
Is it because of me?
I’m sorry
I couldn’t help you
I didn’t know what to do
I tried
I always try
But it never seems to be enough
Can I make you stop hurting?
I’ll do anything
Just be okay again
Even though you were never really okay
I want to help
I want to help more than anything in the world
But I can’t 
I can’t do anything
Not help you
Not help anyone
I’m sorry

I can't be good enough

I can’t be enough for my friends
Or my family
I can love them more than anything in the world
But it’s still not enough
I am not enough
I can make people feel better
But that only lasts for a short time
I can’t help people like I want to
I can’t be enough for anyone
But most of all
I can’t be enough for myself


You know the feeling when you just want to hold someone’s hand
To feel their hand in yours and know they care
To cry and hug them tight without them judging you
To feel the warmth of their embrace and let it comfort you
No words need be traded between the two of you
To see them smile at you even though they know you’re not okay
These small little actions of kindness can make everything seem better even if just for a moment

Do you miss it

Do you miss it
Being free
Not caring 
Thinking you can soar through the sky 
without worrying about anything
Or anyone

It's not your fault

You claim it’s all your fault
All of it
World hunger, war, poverty
But I know it’s not
It’s not your fault the world doesn’t treat you well
It’s not your fault she left
It’s the fault of the world
All of it 
Except one thing
The only thing that is your fault
Is that you think it’s all your fault
That’s it
The one thing
And even that’s not entirely your fault


I see colors everywhere. I see colors in people, in music, and in words. I see colors when I meet new people or when I hear new sounds. These colors are always different. Some of them are woven like a blanket, coarse and threaded together string by string. Others are entirely smooth, like a fresh piece of paper before it’s been handled. The colors are vibrant when something needs to be emphasized and dull when something has little worth. Bright when things are cheery and fresh and faded when things are old, sad, or tired. Music often has colors. I see a calming light blue when my sister sings and yellow when I hear the sound of a harp being played gently by soft fingers that lightly brush its strings. 

People are different. They don’t just have colors, but sometimes patterns to go along with them. These patterns can be sharp and precise or all over the place and hard...

He said he loved me

He said he loved me
So why would he leave
Why would he board that ship knowing he probably wouldn't be coming back
He said he'd miss me
So why doesn't he come back
Why haven't I seen him in months
Why doesn't he call
I said I loved him
So why didn't I follow him
Why did I let him leave
Why didn't I say goodbye
I said I hated him
So why does it hurt so  much
Why do I want to see him more than anything else in the world
Why do I feel like I've made a terrible mistake
He said he'd be back soon
So why don't I believe him
Why don't I wait for him
Why can't I wait for him
I said I'd wait for him
So why do I suddenly feel impatient
Why do I want to leave and go somewhere he'll never find me
Why can't I tell him I want...

My World

I live in another world
Somewhere not distant but somehow so far away from reality
Its a wonderful, horrific, masterpiece, the world I live in
A place where dreams come true but so do nightmares
Where limits are only placed by one’s imagination
Still, imaginations can be dangerous
It’s a marvelous place, this world of mine
Because no matter what one thing stays the same
No matter how terrible things in this world become
It always manages to work out
As if there’s someone shinning above it promising to keep everyone there safe
It is a comforting, quiet place
Where no one can tell me that I can’t do things
But I can’t stay for long
There are too many things tying me to reality
So I’ll have to leave this world but I’ll be back soon
For now, I can live in both worlds
And in a way, they’re both mine
My beautiful, messy, terrible, wonderful worlds

Unlikely Love

They met in a weird sort of way. A dog was chasing him and he ended up in her yard while she was swimming. She watched him curiously, wondering where he had come from and why he managed to seem so different, yet so similar to her. They met eyes. It was obvious that they shouldn't be together, they were from two different worlds. But it seemed so tempting. She emerged from the water walked lazily towards him and managed to scare the dog that had been chasing him away. He looked thankful and was about to leave when she invited him over. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, he couldn't swim, on the other, she seemed so mysterious and he was drawn to her. They decided to look past their differences, after all, they weren't so dissimilar after all. He a chicken and she a duck. Though on was meant for water and one for land,...


The red rose once filled with life and hope
Now lies wilted on the ground
Little remains of the life it was once full of
Its soil was ruined and its life force torn away
Yet it fights
It still wants to hold itself upright
But it can’t quite do it by itself
One day it is ripped from the earth
Dug up by its roots
It starts to wonder if maybe this is it
It can no longer fight
But then it is found
And placed in a new garden
A brighter garden
And once again it thrives

Broken Dreams

He claimed he would fly higher than the sky can reach
brushing the trees with his feet, never coming back to the surface
He always said he could escape that small, tired town and be forever free of its grasp
He wanted to be free, to dance with the stars and never be forced to come back down
Back then he laughed
Back then he smiled often
Back then he felt alive
Like he could truly do something
But he came crashing back down before he could even touch the top of a tree
Now he stays in that old, beat-up house that he wanted so desperately to escape
He has long since given up on those dreams he once had
There was too much holding him back
Too much he couldn’t escape